


Of Cougars and Bachelor Auctions

by Madiedoodle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, AU where SMH is never a hockey team together but they find eachother anyways, Bachelor Auction, Bitty is smooth, F/F, F/M, M/M, Professional Baker Eric Bittle, This is what happens when you dont read important emails Jack, actually I'm really enjoying this AU, and Jack, hockey player jack, i dare you, is not, self indulgent crack honestly, take this seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madiedoodle/pseuds/Madiedoodle
Summary: Jack Zimmermann, Captain of the Providence Falconers, occasionally doesn't read emails all the way through. Which is the story of how he accidentally accepts an invitation to be one of the Bachelors for a bachelor auction held by one of the charities he supports.Eric Bittle, famous food blogger and caterer of the event, does not expect to buy himself a man. But after a debacle with a nefarious(and lecherous) old woman he just has to step in(the eyes on that boy, lord help him, he couldn't let him suffer like that).Maybe this whole date auction thing won't be so bad after all.





	1. Chapter 1

He knew, objectively, that the event was for a good cause. He had been doing fundraisers for You Can Play since the start of his career, and agreeing to this event seemed like a no-brainer, assuming it would be another gala dinner full of silent auction baskets and sitting silently in a corner or having quiet conversations with some of the kids in attendance. 

Out of these assumptions, he only got two things right. One, it was indeed a gala dinner. And two, there were indeed auctions. Just no baskets. 

The look of sympathy on George’s face as she came to retrieve him from his corner seat, interrupting his conversation with a young goalie who was concerned over his chances of making it onto a college team. He regretted having to end the conversation, the kid was bright and just needed a bit of encouragement and assurance, but duty called. Whatever that duty may be. He hugged Georgia as he approached, assuring her that the interruption was fine, and then she began briefing him on what he was there for. 

“I was actually surprised that you signed up for this one. Auction dates really don’t seem like your thing,” she said, and Jack’s mind screeched to a halt. The cue cards he had all stacked in his mind scattered through his brain as he thought of what an auction date was.

“I…..I wasn’t aware that that is what I signed up for…..” he said, eyes widening in fear as George’s eyebrows raised. 

“Jack, did you not read the whole email?” she asked in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she looked up at him. As general manager it really isn’t her job to deal with his shenanigans, but she always did have a soft spot for him and the You Can Play program, so she had taken it upon herself to make sure things ran smoothly. God help her. 

“No, I’m sorry. They’re usually...the same…” he said apologetically, trying to stay calm as the anxiety crept up on him. He had a hard enough time with the speeches they usually had him give. Standing on stage in front of all these people for the sole purpose of them trying to buy him? Like a piece of meat?! A voice that sounded distinctly similar to Shitty’s ranted indignantly in the back of his mind as his vision swam in front of him. 

“Jack, Jack, hey hey no it’s alright, you’ll be fine. You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to, we can take your name off the roster, there’s no need to panic,” she assured him, leading him to a place where he could sit. “Jack, you can hear me. I need you to close your eyes and breathe, okay? In, out, in, out.” George was saying, and Jack breathed with her and opened his eyes after a few minutes of breathing and clearing the buzzing in his mind. Another minute of processing what she had said led to him looking around, the gala still in full swing as some of the younger people that the program benefitted chatted loudly amongst themselves. 

“I can’t bail George, it’s a fundraising event…..Is there….are any of the other guys….”

“Tater volunteered almost immediately, he loves the idea. Dragged Marty and Thirdy into it too, and I believe their wives will be bidding on them. Birkholtz is here too, and I’m thinking of bidding on him myself if we’re being honest here,” she said with a grin and a suggestive eyebrow wiggle that eased some of the tension from Jack’s shoulders. 

“I’m sure your wife would love that. Though I would love to see you try to win a bidding war against Ransom. He’s ruthless,” he said, giving a final nervous laugh, steeling himself for the upcoming trials. “What will I have to do?” he asked, and George looked down at her clipboard. 

“Local businesses donated events and other such things that can be done on a date, and people categorized them per athlete to have them as close to things as they are marginally interested in as possible. It looks like you’ll be doing a cooking class,” she read, flipping through the paper to see if there was anything else. “It’s also noted that this class is by the Frog Pond, in the event that you have any desire to continue the outing.” 

“A cooking class shouldn’t be so bad,” he reassured himself, pulling at the bottom corner of his coat nervously. 

“Definitely. It’ll be good for you to learn to make something other than grilled chicken and steamed vegetables, you tasteless fiend,” she teased, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. This was an old battle, one he would never win. It was common knowledge that ‘his taste in food had never been developed, and he had no sense for proper spices and flavors’, as Georgia had so politely put it, mirroring Lardo and Ransoms view of him. A nice way of saying that he sometimes thought cracked pepper was too spicy.

“Alright, alright, okay. Cooking class, probably only 2 hours, three tops with a stranger. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s the spirit, kiddo. You all good?” she asked finally, and with his decisive nod she started him on his way. “Good, it’s about to start. The announcer is going to call you out by name and say a little bit about you, and you’ll have to stand there for a bit until the bidding is over for you. You don’t have to do anything, you don’t have to say anything. Just try not to scowl, if you please,” she instructed, and Jack tried his best to process all the instructions she had just thrown at him. No talking, no scowling. Perfect. He could do that. It was just like skating onto the ice at the beginning of a game, the announcer saying his number and the crowd watching as his team took the ice. 

He even had Tater up there to back him up. 

“Zimmboni! I am glad to be seeing you here! You with pretty face, get all the money, good way to fundraise yes?” Tater said enthusiastically, clamping a friendly hand on Jack’s shoulder, the familiar gesture helping to ease his anxiety a bit. 

“Jack, broooo, long time no see! And I didn’t expect to see you up here with us either, doesn’t seem like your forte bro.” Holster said loudly on his other side, and Jack couldn’t help but snort.

“Figured I’d try something new,” he replied, sarcasm likely only evident to himself. “Ransom out there ready to swoop in and keep you out of strange paws?” he asked Holster, earning an easy grin.

“Yeah, I figured we make enough money, and this is more fun than just straight up making a donation. We even get a date out of it, no planning needed on our part. It’s awesome!”

“Our teammates do same thing, their wives winning them in bidding. Very sweet, very fun!” Tater said, gesturing at where Marty and Thirdy stood. 

Before the conversation could continue, the announcer for the event began speaking, and the auction was off. It started with one of the General Managers from the Penguins. The bidding took longer than Jack would have honestly expected as people raised the money exponentially. Over time everyone was called back, Holster’s bidding war becoming particularly intense as Holster’s husband had a bidding war with Georgia, and Jack sure hoped someone was recording this event as the two glared intensely at each other. 

Tater went before Jack, and Marty would go after Jack. He was just glad not to be first or last. As Tater took the stage, Jack was intrigued to notice that Kent was the first to bid for him, gaze strangely intense. As the bidding for Tater continued, Kent continued to bid, and Jack decided to ask him about that later as Kent won a wine tasting with Tater, a slight smirk on his face. Jack didn’t have much time to think about it, as his name was called and he was walking onto the stage. He couldn’t understand what the announcer was saying about him, the buzzing in his ears too intense as he stared out into a spot just over the crowd and prayed that someone that he was at least familiar with won the bid. 

It started with a woman in a rather gaudy leopard print jump suit. She was older than Jack, probably in her late forties, and she was eying him like a prize. He recognized her from Sports Press, a frighteningly militant woman with no boundaries and a habit of letting her hands wander. It made Jack nervous, and his hope for the bidding dwindled as she started to beat out other bidders. The price climbed rather high, higher than any of the other ‘dates’ had gone for, and at least Jack had that to be pleased about before he died at the hands of a possibly literal cougar.(he really needed to spend less time with Shitty, his thoughts were sounding too similar to his friends words).

Just when he thought his fate was sealed, the feeling of the woman’s frighteningly long finger nails pinching off his airways along with the anxiety, an angel appeared. The man was slight in build, from what Jack could see, but he held himself with a confidence, head tilted charmingly to the side with a cool air that Jack could only admire and never hope to replicate. His savior was not looking at Jack, instead leveling the leopard-woman with a raised eyebrow that seemed to question her entire existence. 

Jack’s sense of relief skyrocketed when the woman finally gave up on the bid and the handsome stranger took the win. He didn’t even think to be nervous about having to go on an outing with a stranger, only relief that he would not be forced to spend an evening with such an obviously lecherous old woman. 

Through his relief, he didn’t hear the rest of the announcements being made, only coming back to himself as he was being ushered off the stage. Stepping off the stage, he immediately spotted the stranger who had won the auction, and resolved to speak with him. ‘At least learn his name and thank him for the rescue, that’s all, then I can go home.’ he thought to himself as he moved through the crowd towards the handsome stranger. 

“Ah, Mr. Zimmermann, pleasure to meet you! I’m Eric Bittle! I’m really sorry to have bought you but you just looked so frightened of that woman, I had to intervene, I hope you don’t mind too terribly!” the man, Eric, gushed and Jack was overwhelmed for a moment.

“I came here to thank you, actually. The pleasure is all mine.” Jack said, voice surprisingly maintaining an even tone as he looked down at Mr. Bittle. He was even more handsome in person, not particularly tall but he held himself in a way that did not allow for one to view him as small. Despite this, Jack was pretty sure if he stood behind Eric he could rest his chin on the top of his head. He was well put together, in dress pants and dress shirt combo and light blue suspenders that made his eyes seem a richer brown. As cliche as it sounded, Jack could see himself getting lost in those eyes. 

Luckily for him, before he could get in too deep Eric continued talking. “ This is my first time catering one of these events, you lucked out that I was on my break at the same time as the auction.” he said with a wink that some might think was flirtatious, but Jack viewed as conspiratorial. 

“I didn’t realize you were the caterer, you did an excellent job. I try to be strict with my diet, but those mini pies were a forced exception, too good to pass up.” he found himself saying, surprised at how at ease he felt speaking to this stranger. Though he could feel himself draining from all the interaction of the day, he didn’t feel as much of the usual swell of anxiety, at least not in this moment. He knew he should end this conversation soon before he got too tired to keep it together, but he didn’t really want the conversation to end. 

“You flatterer, I’m glad you enjoyed them! Mini pies have always been my specialty, I love baking them. If you ever feel like breaking your diet, I would happily help aiding and abetting you in that endeavor.” Eric said happily, with a smile that made his warm eyes light up and made Jack’s brain glitch just a little bit. Lucky for him, years of doing interviews and talking to fans had given him practice in carrying on a conversation.

“If you’re a caterer I can’t imagine you’ll be in need of the cooking class.” he observed aloud, and he noticed the corners of Eric’s eyes crinkle when he laughs. 

“There’s always something’ new to learn, I’m sure it’ll be a grand ol’ time.” he replied, eyes still crinkled in a smile. Jack smiled back, and spotted Tater waving at him from behind Eric’s shoulder. He took that as his cue to leave, and turned back to Eric.

“Thank you again for rescuing me, I don’t know what I would do if I had to spend an evening with that lecherous woman.” he said, shuddering at the very thought. Feeling a moment of boldness, he reached into his pocket and took out a pen and napkin he had stored there. “I’m sure my number is with whatever bid package thing they gave you…..but just in case….” he said as he scribbled down his number and handed it to a delighted Eric, who looked down at the napkin before looking back up at Jack. By now, Tater was grinning at Jack and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and Jack tried his best not to redden at the implications. He was only being friendly to the man who had donated such a large amount of money to the cause and rescued him from what would have likely been a horrible night. That was all. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Bittle, I will see you in a couple of days.” he said, extending a hand to shake. And with that he made his escape over to Tater, who was grinning at him widely as he gestured out of the room. 

He spared one glance back, and seeing that Eric was punching his number into his phone he smiled and then turned back to Tater. He remembered in the haze of the event itself that his friend had been bid off to none other than Kent Parson. “So, you and Kenny? He seemed pretty intent on winning you.” he probed, looking at Tater in the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

“I am surprised he was here, he tells me he is going back to Vegas, but there he was. Silly man, very jealous sometimes. But is for good cause, and now we have date idea.” Tater answers nonchalantly, as if he thought that Jack was aware of their apparent relationship. Which he certainly had not been, and he couldn’t help but be surprised. “You date for years, run out of ideas sometimes.” Tater continued, throwing a wrench in Jack’s train of thought. Years. And he didn’t know. He really needed to get in touch with Kenny. 

“I’m happy for you Tater. Have fun on your date.” he said, a pre programmed response that was polite and also allowed him time to process the situation. 

“We will, Zimmboni, but maybe not as much fun as you will have on yours. I see you making eyes at small baker man, you will have good time.” Tater responded, and Jack blushed. He was not making eyes at Eric. 

“Hopefully. He seems nice.” he responded, and Tater continued on. 

“Maybe if it goes well, you get recipe for little pies? Perfect treats, I need many more.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” he responded good naturedly. Those little pies really had been delicious, worth the cheat day, for which he usually reserved for days with his dad. 

“You must, or I will be a sad sad man.”


	2. Chapter 2

Eric had no idea what he was doing. One moment he was placing his mini pies on trays to be served to the guests and the next moment he was looking up at the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on, despite the man’s obvious distress. He looked pained, shuffling his feet with a deer in the headlights type of look in his eyes. It was heart breaking, and being the southern gentleman he is, Eric could not stand for such distress. 

The next moment he was bidding and bidding. He caught sight of his rival, and understood instantly why the man on stage was so distressed. He knew who Jack Zimmermann was, knew from the magazines and the news that he had anxiety. And he also knew, from Holster’s rocious accounts of his interviews with Sports Press, that this woman in particular was mean and handsy, which could not be a good combo. The look of relief in Jack’s(extremely blue, extremely expressive, extremely gorgeous) eyes was worth the money spent, especially for a good cause. Two good causes, if he counted the rescuing of that poor boy as a good deed rather than a possibly selfish splurge. How could he pass up time spent with a handsome man? And lucky for him he had the money to do so. His show was blossoming, his catering business was flourishing, and his cookbook was selling fast on the markets. It was a good time to be Eric Richard Bittle, and he could afford to splurge on large donations for a few good causes. 

He won the bid, staring the obnoxiously dressed woman down with a look he had learned from his mama and perfected with years of practice. It was with a sense of accomplishment that he gave a little wave to Jack and made his way back to his post at the table, placing the remainder of the mini pies in the little to-go boxes he had for the event. Guests could take some home with them, and if there were any left over he would give them to the homeless shelter near the bakery with the other extras from the day. 

As he was just finishing packing up, he caught sight of Jack approaching him. He quickly smoothed down his hair and his clothes before turning to greet him, gathering as much charm as he could muster in order to remain nonchalant in the face of his long time celebrity crush(Rans, Holster, and all the others were gonna chirp him mercilessly for this). 

“Ah, Mr. Zimmermann, pleasure to meet you! I’m Eric Bittle! I’m really sorry to have bought you but you just looked so frightened of that woman, I had to intervene, I hope you don’t mind too terribly!” he said, and saw Jack pause at the onslaught of a greeting. ‘Good job Eric, way to spew words a mile a minute, way to scare him off.’  
“I came here to thank you, actually. The pleasure is all mine.” Jack replied after a moment’s pause, and Eric could barely focus because that voice was so smooth. The truly awkward Jack he had seen in interviews was gone, replaced by a smooth talking Zimmermann that Eric knew he needed to escape from before he got caught up in this crush of his. No use in breaking his heart over an obviously straight hockey star. He had seen the women that Jack had dated, seen the statements. No use getting in too deep here. 

 

He decided to keep it cool with his reply, keep it friendly. “ This is my first time catering one of these events, you lucked out that I was on my break at the same time as the auction.” he replied, and congratulated himself for the lightness of his town. ‘It’s just like talking to Holster, just the same.’ he told himself. He did allow himself one wink, only slightly flirtatious though he convinced himself that it was more conspiratorial than anything. 

 

“I didn’t realize you were the caterer, you did an excellent job. I try to be strict with my diet, but those mini pies were a forced exception, too good to pass up.” Oh no, compliments on his baking skills. His greatest weakness. But he could pull through this, he can play it off. 

“You flatterer, I’m glad you enjoyed them! Mini pies have always been my specialty, I love baking them. If you ever feel like breaking your diet, I would happily aid and abet in that endeavor.” 

And he knew he was sold. Once he started breaking out the vocab words he had helped Shitty study for his Harvard classes, he knew he was a goner and he just had to salvage the situation as much as possible. But it was really difficult to salvage any situation when a tall, attractive, and apparently sweet man is standing in front of him engaging in conversation.

And with that the conversation led to goodbyes, until he was left standing there, awe stricken and clutching a napkin with Jack Zimmermann’s phone number scribbled on it. He really couldn’t believe his life at this point, as he carefully typed the number into his phone, and folded the napkin to put in his pocket for safekeeping. 

He caught sight of Jack glancing back at him and smiling before walking over to his teammate, and if Eric didn’t have nerves of steel he probably would’ve swooned then and there in quite a dramatic fashion. But he kept his composure and finished up his job, only taking a moment to text Jack to make sure Jack had his number too. It wouldn’t do if Jack couldn’t communicate with him if he needed to.


End file.
